Paint the Roses
by Forgiveness Lost
Summary: He stands behind her, watching, while she dips the brush in the blood rising to the surface. "Again," he screams, throwing the empty vase at her back. It shatters against her skin, pieces embedding in her left hip. Please stop, she wants to say. Please have mercy. She only wanted to bring him flowers, but they aren't good enough. They're too white. Too pure.
1. Chapter 1

Serenity feels anything but serene. One hand clutches fingers of the other. Gripping, wringing, twisting. Peering up at the large mahogany doors, she shakes her hand out. She wants to take her nervousness and push it down, smother it behind the harsh realistic persona she created in order to survive back at the Sohma house. But that's a person she doesn't want to be. Someone that doesn't exist. That never existed.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and wipes her sweaty palms on the yellow dress just below the jean jacket. A touch of autumn bites her cheeks. She smiles against the wind. It reminds her of pumpkins and coffee; scarves and cardigans.

Metal bites through the bare skin of her fingers as she wraps them around the door handle. The doors are lighter than she expected. A blast of warmth burns the chill from her face as she pulls the door open.

She glances over her shoulder, half expecting Hatori to drive up in his black sedan with his window down, giving her the same disapproving look she became accustom to. But she needs time away from him, too. Time for herself. Time to think without all the noise and chatter of the Zodiac humming beneath the surface of her skin.

Stepping into the warmth, she pulls the door shut behind her, and welcomes the separation from the outside world.

She stands in front of each class, an artifact on display for the world to see. She wants to melt into the expensive flooring, seep into the cracks until it buckles beneath the weight of her substance. Introduces herself. What are her likes and hobbies? Who are her parents? Where did she come from? They all want to know.

She takes a seat next to a tall blonde. Tucks strands of hair behind her ear, then runs her fingers through to release its hold. It spills over her right shoulder, a barricade so the man won't speak to her. He takes no notice.

"Why, hello," he says, a charming smile tugging against his lips.

She knows that kind of smile.

"My name is Tamaki Suoh." Slender fingers not her own tuck her hair behind her ear again. "I'm honored to meet such a lovely maiden as yourself." His hands grasp one of her own, the one nearest to him, and brings it to his lips. The sigh of a kiss grazes her knuckles.

Her hand retracts of its own accord and she shifts to the edge of her seat. Please don't touch me. Her mind speaks but her lips make no movement. Another burn creeps up from the base of her neck, touching her ears and spreading along her cheeks.

His eyebrows twitch upward, his blue eyes widening a fraction.

She apologizes immediately, and yet curses herself for doing so. "I'm not one for physical contact." She doesn't have to explain. She knows that. And yet she does so anyway. Another apology escapes.

"It's nothing to worry about, Princess," he says, and smirks as he puts his fingers through his bangs. Determination spits fire from his eyes.

She pushes away the urge to run.

His fingers curl into a tight fist. "I'll make sure no one lays a hand on you. You can count on me."

She blinks at his words. How is she supposed to react to something of that magnitude? "Um, okay," she says. It seems rude, but what else is she to say? His words seem sincere, but they are only as sincere as his person. And she doesn't know him well enough to know who that is.

When the bell sounds, she shoves her notebook in her backpack. The amount of people here—it's smothering. She ignores the voice that calls out to her and disappears in the crowd of other students. It's best to blend in, fall in with some meaningless crowd or just stay off to herself. It's safer for everyone that way.

All her classes manage the same. She makes it a point to steer clear of the overzealous blonde that insists on capturing her attention. Although she's unsure if it's her attention he seeks, or if it is merely attention in general.

It's tiresome. Starting over. Her eyes are heavy and every movement drags the exhaustion out deeper. A day filled with fake smiles, false promises, and avoiding certain people will wear anyone out. The ticking clock on the wall seems to taunt Serenity with every passing second. Only thirty minutes before lunchtime. Thirty minutes. Before lunch time.

Can this day go any slower? Really? She wants to groan and bang her head against the desk. Because it is the first day of school, none of the teachers want to teach anything. Go over the syllabus and get to know the people sitting on the left and right. They'll be her neighbors for the remainder of the year.

She makes an effort for each class to sit near a woman. The closer she is to a man, the more likely it is they'll find out her secret. And that's something she can't afford. She doesn't think Hatori can either. Erasing memories takes a lot out of a person.

The bell chimes and she bolts from her seat, beelining for the doorway. The pink walls crawl in closer, closing some of the empty space. Chatter fills the rest, bouncing off the increasing walls and slithering in one ear and out the other.

She pushes her way through the crowd until the familiar giant doors come into view. Without a second glance, she slides out of the warmth and into the chill where she can spread her arms and breathe.

A black car speeds past. The cool wind brushes against her face and blows her hair out around her. It forces her back against the door, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. They won't know she's missing until this evening, and even then, they won't know where to start looking for her. She covered her tracks well enough.

She tugs the map of campus out of her backpack and spreads it open. If she walks around the left side of the building, it'll bring her to the—she squints, trying to make out the kanji written on top of the green block on the page—Kendo building? Past that, there's the Music building, and the Performing arts. Wouldn't those be one building? Suppose not.

And if she veers to the right… That's where she'll go. The gardens. Somewhere quiet. Peaceful. She shoves her hands together and tucks the map in a side pocket of her bag.

On the way there, she tugs the ends of her hair, dancing her fingers around the strands—it's gotten so long since she last cut it. Maybe she'll cut it again.

Then again, maybe she won't. She won't admit it to anyone else, but she's just as vain as any of the other students here. Maybe this will be the place she belongs.

The smell of roses grows stronger the farther Serenity walks. Murmurs become more distinct voices, as though the idle wind carries their words to her.

"I apologize, Princess," says one voice.

Her chest clenches, and her feet stop before she can walk around the corner of the building.

"But I cannot return your feelings. I'm so very honored that you've chosen me. And I do hope you continue to visit me at the Host Club."

"Ah, Tamaki-san, I understand."

Serenity can hear the tears in the girl's eyes, the ache in her chest, the break in her words. She doesn't mean to listen into such a private conversation. Her eyes wander to the cracks in the cement. Of course, a garden in a place like this is sure to draw romantic notions. Even though she hasn't seen it, she can imagine.

"A Prince such as yourself could never be tied down to someone as me. Please forgive my forwardness."

"Nonsense," he cries. "Any man would be lucky to have someone as beautiful as you, my darling. I'm afraid I just cannot be that man. I hope you understand." His voice is powerful, even without the wind to carry it. A born actor.

"I do, Tamaki-san. Thank you so much for your kindness."

The tapping of heels brings Serenity's eyes forward. She doesn't want to get caught listening, so she pushes her feet forward, as though she never stopped walking. She doesn't want to see Tamaki, but she doesn't want to be confronted by a scorned woman, either. Hell hath no fury. The scar on her back is proof of that.

"Hello, Tamaki-san." She forces the words from her mouth out of politeness and keeps her eyes forward. The garden is a maze of rose bushes, mostly red. "Ah," her eyes lower. Red roses. Of course.

"Ah, Serenity-chan," he says.

She turns to look at him, and freezes, as he's no more than a foot away from her now.

"Don't worry," he smiles, tilts his head to the side. His eyes crinkle when he smiles. He must be a very happy man. "I will respect your personal space."

The tension in her shoulders releases, and she nearly sighs. That's a relief.

"Unless, of course, you do something unbearably cute. Then I'll have no choice but to hug you."

She takes it back. No relief. Forever tension. She won't be able to make it one day without her secret being public knowledge. It's a mistake leaving the Sohma house. She should have just stayed. She never should have come here. "Please don't do such a thing, Tamaki-san."

"Whyever not? All maidens such as yourself deserve affection. Don't you agree, Serenity-chan?" He tucks his hands in the pockets of his trousers, as though he were talking with a lifelong friend, not someone he only met this morning.

She gives him a tight smile and turns away. "You shouldn't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to." She feels his eyes against her back until she's swallowed up by the garden. All she wants is to finish out the last two years of her schooling. No setbacks. And that won't be able to happen if Tamaki continues to push. It's only been a day, but her resolve has never been quite that strong. She'll crack beneath the weight of his attention. And Akito will have her head.

The thought has her bent over, vision blurred by tears. Breathe, remember to breathe. One moment at a time. Just take it as it comes. She can do this. One final, shaking breath, and she continues down the pathway, swiping the back of her hand against her face to erase the tears. She sits on a nearby stone bench and pulls her lunch out. As though nothing happened. Nothing's going to happen.


	2. Chapter 2

The second day, she's not as unnerved to see Tamaki. She woke early to meditate, practiced putting all of her anxiety in a box and shoving it to the farthest corners of her mind. She felt like she could breathe, even in the tightness of her apartment.

It's rather small, much like an American studio apartment. Bed, dresser, restroom, kitchenette, couch, television. Not much more. Balcony doors overlook the enlarged pink school. A glance, and a breath. A glance, and a breath. She repeated the same thing over and over again until she habituates to it. Until it no longer bothers her.

That's a lie. Being in a coed school still bothers her, but the first day is over with, and the second day is easier.

"Will you come visit me after classes?" Tamaki asks when the bell chimes.

She blinks at the forward invitation, her cheeks warming. "Tamaki-san, I'm not sure that's a good idea." She closes her notebook and slides it in her bag.

"I believe he means the Host Club, Asaki-san," an unfamiliar voice to her left speaks. "He wants you to visit our Host Club."

She looks up into a pair of glasses. Black hair sways to the side, a few strands falling just over the top of the frames. His calm, collected demeanor reminds her of Hatori. "Oh," she says, unsure of how to respond. What's a Host Club? Still, she shakes her head and stands, her chair scraping against the floor and forcing the black-haired man to step back. "I'm sorry, but I'm needed at home." Lie. "Perhaps next time, Tamaki-san."

She steps around the black-haired man without touching him. She doesn't ask his name, doesn't care to know it. As she descends the slope toward the front of the classroom, she hears voices on her left and right, but keeps her eyes on the ground in front of her.

Host Club.

Most handsome men of the school.

Entertainers?

Tamaki-san.

Kyouya-san.

Haruhi-san.

Mori-sempai.

Hunny-sempai.

The twins.

Too much. It's too much.

She can't visit that place. No matter how much Tamaki begs. She can't give in. The probability of her secret coming to light in a club like that rises at least by twenty percent. She doesn't like those odds.

The garden is quiet for her lunchbreak. There are no romantic confessions. No private conversations she intrudes in on. Although she wonders if it's a common occurrence. If the Host Club men are as handsome as the women claim, then she can imagine it may be a part of their daily routine. The thought makes her giggle.

A day in the life of a handsome man: Wake up, comb hair, brush teeth, dress for success, ace tests, turn down gorgeous women, club activities, dinner, then sleep. Wake up and repeat the cycle all over again. The thought keeps her giggling for a few moments.

"So cute!" she hears Tamaki before his torso hits her back.

On instinct, she turns and shoves before his arms can wrap around her. Luckily, she took self-defense classes from Kazuma. Part of those classes included self-preservation techniques as well. Her hands against his chest press hard enough to mold into the uniform, into the skin. Adrenaline pulses through her veins, slithering beneath her skin, widening her eyes. What else was she to do?

His crystalline eyes widen as a tear slides beneath her eye. The reaction is instantaneous. Panic draws her hands to her heart's center.

The way his body was leaning, her hands were the only thing keeping him upright. At the loss, he tumbles forward, landing on his knees in the grass. The weight on her heart increases. She's sorry, so sorry she's the reason he fell. It's her curse that's breaking his heart. Hers to bear alone. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

She keeps her eyes on the grass and turns her back on him again. He won't come after her a second time. She's sure of it. Not after the way she left him. She looks to the roses, stained red.

She tries not to think of it. Tries to push it to the back of her mind where it belongs. But with the adrenaline pulsing through her, all she can see is the paintbrush, dipping into the slashes on her wrist as she paints the white and yellow roses. Tainted. Stained. Serenity's fondness of _Alice in Wonderland_ ended with Akito.

"That was quite rude, you know."

Lost in her memories, she doesn't notice the black-haired man from earlier step up next to her. Her vision blurs with the remnants of her past, but she recognizes his voice. She looks to him, sees him falter, take a step back at the sight of her face. "I won't apologize." She warns. "I've made my stance of physical contact very clear with Tamaki-san. I don't understand how your Host Club survives with his lack of respect."

She bites her tongue as punishment for her rudeness and swipes the tears from her eyes. "Nonetheless," she sighs. "I don't mean to cause him pain. He is genuine. Kind. Loyal. And honest, from what I can tell. A lot like someone I care for deeply." The flamboyant snake slithers to the forefront of her mind, with his long mane of silver hair. "But there is a lot you don't know about me, sempai. Physical contact is a huge _no_. Please understand and respect that from me."

"I understand," Tamaki speaks as though her rejection didn't happen. "I apologize, my fair maiden. It was rather forward of me. You are just too cute when you smile," he flirts, and his fingers curl into themselves and outward again.

She smiles at the charming complement, a blush taking root on her cheeks. It must be taking a lot out of him to not touch her. "Thank you, Tamaki-san."

"However," he says, fists on his hips. "In order for me to forgive you," he continues, and points a finger at her, "you must come visit the Host Club." His hand turns to a fist again and settles on his hip. He must really not know what to do with his hands. "Today." No room for discussion.

"Tamaki-san." She's ready with the same excuse as yesterday, but he doesn't listen.

"Kyouya, make sure Miss Serenity reports to the Host Club directly after classes." His posture sags, and a hand threads through his bangs. "As of now, my sole purpose is to get Miss Serenity comfortable with physical contact." He props a foot on the nearest stone bench and hits an open palm with the side of his fist. "I will make you hug me," he exclaims to the open garden.

Serenity blinks. "You are very resilient, Tamaki-san." She smiles and looks away. "What a wonderful trait to have," she says more to herself than anything.

"Tamaki, I'm afraid your schedule for today is full," Kyoya interrupts, pushing his glasses closer to his face. On one arm rests a laptop, and the other hand is busy fingering the keys.

Tamaki's shoulders sag again, this time in defeat. His arms hang low. He pops up, finger pointed to the sky. "I know. Have lunch with me, Serenity-san."

"There are only five minutes left for our break." Kyoya once again shatters Tamaki's happiness.

Tamaki sighs, defeated.

For a few moments, no one says anything. Serenity bites the inside of her cheek, and raises a loose fist. Her fingers expand and retract a few times before her hand settles on Tamaki's shoulder. "We can have lunch tomorrow, Tamaki-san."

Before he can reply, she removes her hand and heads back to the building. She can feel their eyes on her until she's hidden behind the corner of the school. Her stomach clenches. Tamaki and Kyoya took up her whole lunch period, so she couldn't eat.

Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. She can make it to the end of the day. She can.

She almost makes it. When the bell chimes to go home for the day, Serenity pushes herself up, keeping her hands against the table as black spots dance in front of her eyes. Her head feels light, weightless. She tries to push them away, to force her vision back. With a sigh, her legs fold beneath her.

* * *

The thrumming inside Serenity's head is enough to make her pass out again. She opens her eyes, then closes them; a shield against the white walls. She covers her eyes with her hand and lets her eyes adjust to the low light before removing her hand.

A chocolate bar stares her in the face. Long, masculine fingers wrap around it, connected with a strong wrist. The rest of the arm is hidden beneath the light blue of the man's uniform. Thin lips, delicate nose, crystal blue eyes.

"Tamaki-san." Her voice holds an air of surprise in it.

His wrist lifts in the air, insinuating that she take the chocolate bar. His eyes are set on her, disappointed. "You should take better care of yourself, Serenity-chan."

She doesn't have the heart to tell him that he is the reason she missed lunch. She lowers her eyes to the food, cups her hand around it, making a point to brush her fingers against his. A show of gratitude. "Thank you, Tamaki-san."

His cheeks flare red.

The clacking of keys pulls her attention. Kyoya sits on a chair to her right, hacking away at his computer. "Good afternoon, Asaki-san," he says, diverting his attention to her. "I hope you're feeling better."

"Mm," she agrees, tearing open the chocolate bar and sticking the corner between her lips.

Tamaki sits in a chair to her left. The chair is pushed against the bed, as though he were watching her, waiting for her to wake. The thought lifts the weight from her chest. But only a little.

The two men exchange glances while Serenity nibbles on her chocolate bar.

"Serenity-chan," Tamaki says, her name stumbling from his lips. "Where are your parents?"

Her hand stills before the chocolate can reach her lips again, and her hands lie in her lap. "They're away on business," she lies. Her fingers fumble against the wrapper, closing in the chocolate to save for later. She's no longer hungry.

"I was going to call them," Kyoya says, "to inform them of your situation. Imagine my surprise when I found no phone number on file. Although," he says, turning back to his computer, clicking and typing for a few seconds before turning back to her, "we did manage to get in touch with your Emergency contact. A Tohru Honda, was it? She didn't even know you were here. Why, pray tell, did you put another high school student as your Emergency contact?"

Color drains from her face. No. They can't know. They'll come take her away. They can't bring her back. She can't go back. "I don't believe that's any of your concern, Kyoya-san."

"Please," Tamaki pleads, taking her left hand in between his. His fingers are warm to the touch, welcoming considering how cold her fingers are. "We just want to make sure you're okay. After all, no maiden such as yourself should be on her own."

She puts a hand up to stop Tamaki's babbling. "Please," she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Her chest constricts, as though coils wrapped around her heart and lungs, pulling tighter with each breath. "Return to your club. I can take care of myself." She untucks her legs from the sheets and plants both feet on the cold tile floor. "Thank you again, Tamaki-san." Her hand twitches against the chocolate bar, as though that's what she's thankful for.


	3. Chapter 3

The cuts on her wrist throb as Akito's thumbs press against and separate the skin. "It has to be wide enough," he says. "Make sure you get enough. These flowers are ugly." He shoves the white roses in her face. "Paint them red."

Serenity's hands shake as she grabs the paintbrush with her left hand. She's right handed, but today her right arm is of no use. It's the pallet, and the left is the painter.

He stands behind her, watching, while dips the brush in the blood rising to the surface. "Again," he screams, throwing the empty vase at her back. It shatters against her skin, pieces embedding in her left hip.

Please stop, she wants to say. Please have mercy. She only wanted to bring him flowers, but they aren't good enough. Too white. Too pure. Too fake and untainted by the truth of reality. Nothing will ever be good enough.

…

Serenity puts a hand to her lower back before she opens her eyes. Winter brings old wounds to pain again, or so they say. None of her old injuries hurt quite as much as the shard from the vase. Hatori's a great doctor, but not even he could get all the pieces out. Her left foot goes to sleep sometimes when she sits for too long. Or when she sleeps too long.

She shakes her foot around, still buried beneath a mound of blankets. The apartment isn't well insulated, so the interior and exterior temperatures match. After a few moments, feeling trickles back into her foot, like raindrops falling from her knee, splashing against the inside of her foot, activating the nerve endings.

The pillow is soft beneath her. So soft, there's a ten percent chance that she'll skip school today. She sighs. No. She can't skip. It's only the third day. She'll have to hold onto that card until another time. Perhaps a day when she's sick, when she's sure she'll be transforming all day.

Her arm swings over, bringing her body on its side as she reaches for her phone. Tohru called five times. No doubt she's worried. Serenity smiles. Such a good-natured woman.

She presses the green telephone button and holds it to her ear. If she doesn't reassure Tohru that she's okay, Tohru's likely to crack beneath the worry and spill all to Shigure, who would in turn, tell the world.

She answers on the first ring. "Oh, Hana, thank goodness, I was so worried I thought I was going to have to tell Shigure and the others to make sure you're alright. But if you're calling, this just means you're alive, right? It doesn't mean you're not sick. Are you sick? I can cook you some soup. The leeks are finally ready from Yuki's garden and.."

The grin on Serenity's face grows as the woman on the other end of the line babbles. She sits in silence until Tohru finishes speaking. "I miss you," she says.

"I miss you too," she says. "What happened yesterday?"

"Well," Serenity starts, shoving the covers off and getting to her feet. Making coffee and talking at the same time is an easy enough feat. "There's a guy here who reminds me a lot like Ayame." A giggle sounds from the other side of the phone. "I know. He's so charming and flamboyant." She opens the refrigerator and pulls out the cream, plopping it on the counter next to the coffee maker. "And so desperate to hug me." The canister of coffee jumps open in the absence of the latch, flinging the smell of coffee grinds to her. "I used most of my lunch time trying to avoid him, and I didn't have a chance to eat. But don't worry," she adds before Tohru can speak. She slowly tilts the tablespoon of coffee grinds over the filter, watching it trickle into a pile. "I made rice balls for today, in case I have to eat and run."

She drops the teaspoon back into the coffee canister, latches the lid, and turns the coffee on. The wooden chair scrapes against the floor as she pulls, and plops herself into it.

"It sounds like you're having such a great time there." Her bubbling voice makes Serenity want to wrap her arms around the girl.

"I am," Serenity admits. "I just miss all of you, is all."

"We miss you, too," she admits. "Kyo's been asking about you. So has Hatsuharu." The line goes quiet for a few moments.

Serenity is silent, unsure of what to say.

"I didn't tell them anything," Tohru rushes. "Promise."

"I know, Tohru," Serenity sighs. "I miss them, too. I'm not sure," she blushes, embarrassed to admit, "how long I can handle this 'No Physical Contact' rule I have for myself. It's hard."

"I can imagine. Especially for you. I miss your hugs."

The coffee maker beeps, and Serenity rises from her seat. "And I miss yours." She reaches in the cabinet to pull out a mug. It's plain, white, simple.

"Is that Hana-chan?" Shigure's voice penetrates the phone. The sound of his voice still raises goosebumps on her arms.

Before he can take it from Tohru, Serenity speaks. "Love you, Tohru. I'll call soon." It closes with a _snap_ and bounces as she drops it onto the counter. "Damn dog," she mutters with a smile, pouring the black coffee into the mug. The carton of cream is heavy in her hands. She's so used to it being near empty by the time she gets to it.

It swirls within the black coffee, most of it lingering toward the bottom. She pulls a teaspoon from the squeaky drawer and plunks it into the creamed coffee. Her arms slide across the table, then into each other, clutching her elbows. Her temple rests against the scar on her forearm while she waits for the mug to cool.

"Serenity-chan," Tamaki whispers, elbow nudging against mine. His crystal orbs keep to the front of the classroom as he attempts to capture her attention.

Serenity squeezes her eyes shut before she opens them. Her left hand skims the surface of the notebook paper, to not make it obvious that it was stuck to her cheek. The band that holds her hair up sags low, barely hanging on at the nape of her neck. Wispy blonde strands linger across her eyes. She runs her hands over her face, then up to her hairline to smooth down the wreckage as she pushes herself back up. "Sorry," she whispers back, and smiles. Although she fell asleep in class, it was a much needed nap. The night terrors have been taking up most of her sleeping schedule, so her anxiety is at its peak.

She firmly believes that sleep is a near cure-all. In this case, it feels right, because she feels good.

He smiles, but his eyes peer in a side glance. He's too invested, too worried about her to return a true smile. The bell chimes, and the eruption of chatter is immediate. He turns his body toward her in his chair, but makes no move to get up. "Did you pack lunch again?" he asks, curiosity framing his voice.

She nods and pulls out her bento as proof.

"Good," he affirms. "Make sure you eat it today."

"Mm," she agrees and shoves her bento back in her bag, along with the notes she drooled all over. Slinging it over her shoulder, she stands, and Tamaki stands with her, trailing behind. It's strange, the way he clings to her, follows her, wants her attention. It's almost as though he's a little duckling, and he imprinted on her. She giggles at the thought.

"Ah, you're so cute, Serenity-chan," he whines. "Why can't I hug you? Just once?"

She turns to look at him, and his eyes widen. She hopes he doesn't think she's giving him permission. But she can't help it as she looks up at him, towering over her with eyes that remind her of the bathhouse near the ocean. The one that Shigure—she blushes at her thoughts. Seeing Tamaki like this, though, she wants to run her fingers through his hair, pinch his cheeks. Like a momma hen.

Before she can act on those thoughts, Kyoya appears at Tamaki's side. "Tamaki, you should leave Asaki-san be. Your clients are beginning to worry."

Color visibly drains from his face, and his eyes widen. "Ah, oh no! I didn't mean to! I'll pay more attention to you, my lovely maidens," he cries, arms open to the group of girls huddled and whispering as they stare. "I'm so ashamed to have let you down."

As Tamaki rolls on with his speech, Serenity gives a silent 'thank you' to Kyoya as she slips out of the classroom undetected.

Her next classroom is at the end of the hall, but she knows her teacher won't be there. It's likely that no one shows up at all. Something about having a free period to mull over the first chapter of Calculus. For a second year in high school, Calculus is heavy stuff. Instead, while all the other students are in class, she'll take this time to explore the school.

Every hallway looks the same. Portraits that hang on the wall are different, but they're all in the same place. Each one just as expensive as the one before it.

After taking a few too many turns, Serenity can't remember where she came from. The sign above the threshold is kanji for Kendo, so she must be entering into the Kendo building. The pink carpet turns to hard wooden floors. They look so clean, she'd hate to mark it up with her black shoes, so she takes them off, dangling them in her pointer and middle finger. Her other hand reaches around to her bag to pull out the map of the school. It's only been three days, so she can't be expected to know this place that well just yet.

The chime for lunch will go off in less than twenty minutes, so heading toward the gardens isn't be such a bad idea. She can get an early start on eating. "Hm." She looks up from her map, facing a fork in the hallway. The end of the left hallway is dark, silent, while the right is light, with trace amounts of murmuring, just enough that she questions whether she's hearing things or if there are people there.

It's almost as though it's not a decision. She just goes left. Anything to avoid the crowd. Her hands stick to the wall in the dim hallway so that she doesn't get lost. "Damn, I can't see a thing," she mutters. "I should've gone the other way."

"Hm?" a voice slices through the quiet, deep enough to reverberate through Serenity's chest and down to the soles of her feet.

A blast of light burns her eyes, and she shuts them, bringing a hand to her face.

"Ah, sorry," he says, and the light behind her hands dims, but doesn't shut off. It almost reminds her of a gym. The bleachers are pushed up against the wall, and a blue training mat expands over most of the wooden floors.

"It's fine," she waves it off. "I'm not sure why I'm wandering in the dark anyway. I should've gone the other way," she says, more to herself than the stranger.

He doesn't speak.

He stands tall, hand poised over the light switch. Even a few feet away, he towers over her. Much taller than anyone she's used to. His other hand is on a towel on top of his head. He must have come from the showers. For some reason, it makes the situation feel intimate.

A blush runs up the sides of her neck and spreads along her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'm just trying to find a way out." And after she gets out of here, she'll be able to find her way to the gardens.

He points a finger over his shoulder at the door hidden in the corner.

"Ah, thank you," she says. A sigh escapes her lips. The lunch chime rings, signaling the end of her free period. Twenty minutes passes by quickly when she gets semi-lost. "Enjoy your lunch," she says as she passes him. The urge to brush against his arm is too strong to resist. Being away from the Sohmas is starting to affect her good judgement.

"Mm," he replies.

She shoves against the bar on the door, and the fresh crisp air throws it open the rest of the way, flinging her right into a boy.


End file.
